Read Online The Veritian Derelict (Junkyard Dogs) by Phillip Nolte - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Phillip Nolte
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Alpha was a Marine tactic that had the men falling back under the cover of the two most rearward of their comrades. When all of their companions had retreated past them, now leaving them as the most forward pair, the formation would then continue the retreat under cover of the new set of rearmost defenders. The formation would leapfrog away from the threat in this fashion until all of them were out of the line of fire. Just after the last of his men came around the corner into the main corridor, Hartmann heard a sharp crack and saw a blinding flash as a powerful pulse from the assault cannon blasted down the now vacant corridor. The bulkhead containing the door to a maintenance room at the end of the corridor, made of stout station hull material, sprouted a hole a full five centimeters in diameter.
"Idiots!" exclaimed Hartman, "They could blow a hole in an outside wall with that weapon!"
Hartmann took out his communicator and called the security officer he had left back in the main office. Since the mining station was not a military facility, there was no standard protocol to repel boarders. Hartmann called for the closest thing they had.
"We 're being invaded by hostile boarders!" he said, into the communicator. "Sound the alarm for catastrophic life support systems failure!"
Alarm klaxons began to go off all over the station. Automatic systems kicked in to close and seal all large apertures within and between levels. On the rest of the station, personnel who had been frequently drilled on life support systems failure procedures began to close and dog all manual hatches as well. Within the next two minutes, virtually the entire station was sealed up. Whoever these invaders were, they were going to have to make their way through this station one compartment at a time. That was only one of their challenges. Another was that over ninety percent of the station's personnel were Spacers, many of them, like Deputy Director Hartmann himself, former military.
***
Docking area outside the Piedmont Mining Station, Catskill-Soroyan system, November 29, 2598.
The hijacked Tunisian destroyer approached the Piedmont Mining Station and the mining ship Glendaloch which was still docked in one of the station's transfer berths. The new Captain of the destroyer made a general call to all ships in the vicinity of the Station.
" All ships in this area are to surrender immediately! Failure to comply will result in your immediate destruction ."
Seamus O'Connell keyed up a private channel between his ship and the Glendaloch. "Immediate destruction? With what? That ship doesn't have weapons anymore."
" Yeah, they're bluffing, but we may be the only people besides them that know that, Seamus, " replied Patrick, from the bridge of the Glendaloch .
"How much longer before you can get out of that transfer berth, Niall?"
" I'm still gonna need another fifteen minutes at least ," came the reply. " They've disconnected and pulled all the conveyors and the last of the supply people are getting out as we speak. We're securing hatches and bringing the engines online now. "
"Looks like we might have to do something," said O'Connell. "They may be bluffing, but we don’t have to. I'm arming my mining laser; at this range I can do some pretty respectable damage if they force me to it. I suggest you do the same, Niall."
" Affirmative, Donegal ! "
At O'Connell's signal, several men on the bridge of the Donegal dashed over to man the mining laser control consoles, something that usually wasn't done unless the ship was actually in the process of mining an asteroid. Designed specifically for the unique demands of mining asteroids, the 10,000 gigajoule laser required a trained team to maintain the laser's focus and to monitor and alter the power outputs for the surprisingly delicate process of blasting rock. At full power and at a distance of only a few hundred meters, a mining laser, though not designed to be a weapon, could probably do a great
"Idiots!" exclaimed Hartman, "They could blow a hole in an outside wall with that weapon!"
Hartmann took out his communicator and called the security officer he had left back in the main office. Since the mining station was not a military facility, there was no standard protocol to repel boarders. Hartmann called for the closest thing they had.
"We 're being invaded by hostile boarders!" he said, into the communicator. "Sound the alarm for catastrophic life support systems failure!"
Alarm klaxons began to go off all over the station. Automatic systems kicked in to close and seal all large apertures within and between levels. On the rest of the station, personnel who had been frequently drilled on life support systems failure procedures began to close and dog all manual hatches as well. Within the next two minutes, virtually the entire station was sealed up. Whoever these invaders were, they were going to have to make their way through this station one compartment at a time. That was only one of their challenges. Another was that over ninety percent of the station's personnel were Spacers, many of them, like Deputy Director Hartmann himself, former military.
***
Docking area outside the Piedmont Mining Station, Catskill-Soroyan system, November 29, 2598.
The hijacked Tunisian destroyer approached the Piedmont Mining Station and the mining ship Glendaloch which was still docked in one of the station's transfer berths. The new Captain of the destroyer made a general call to all ships in the vicinity of the Station.
" All ships in this area are to surrender immediately! Failure to comply will result in your immediate destruction ."
Seamus O'Connell keyed up a private channel between his ship and the Glendaloch. "Immediate destruction? With what? That ship doesn't have weapons anymore."
" Yeah, they're bluffing, but we may be the only people besides them that know that, Seamus, " replied Patrick, from the bridge of the Glendaloch .
"How much longer before you can get out of that transfer berth, Niall?"
" I'm still gonna need another fifteen minutes at least ," came the reply. " They've disconnected and pulled all the conveyors and the last of the supply people are getting out as we speak. We're securing hatches and bringing the engines online now. "
"Looks like we might have to do something," said O'Connell. "They may be bluffing, but we don’t have to. I'm arming my mining laser; at this range I can do some pretty respectable damage if they force me to it. I suggest you do the same, Niall."
" Affirmative, Donegal ! "
At O'Connell's signal, several men on the bridge of the Donegal dashed over to man the mining laser control consoles, something that usually wasn't done unless the ship was actually in the process of mining an asteroid. Designed specifically for the unique demands of mining asteroids, the 10,000 gigajoule laser required a trained team to maintain the laser's focus and to monitor and alter the power outputs for the surprisingly delicate process of blasting rock. At full power and at a distance of only a few hundred meters, a mining laser, though not designed to be a weapon, could probably do a great
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